


Skin to Skin

by Livin_Dead



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Frotting, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurities, M/M, Post-Resident Evil 6, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 11:06:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14519163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livin_Dead/pseuds/Livin_Dead
Summary: Piers may not know it, but he needs his beloved Captain and real human contact.





	Skin to Skin

Chris was being lead down a narrow hallway; the woman he followed would periodically look back at him and smile. When he arrived the other scientists, doctors, and nurses too smiled at him, some even looked like they were about to cry. Word spread around quick. It wasn’t long before everyone knew that the infected boy barley clinging to life was the last man of Chris’ two doomed teams. A year later, he was still here.

Chris could vaguely hear the woman talking, but was lost in his own thoughts.

 _Piers Nivans is alive. Piers Nivans is alive_. _Piers Nivans is alive._

Chris had done the only thing he could do – the only _right_ thing he could do: keep going. Keep fighting the good fight. No matter how much it hurt, how much he wanted to stay in bed and not face the day, how much he wanted to drink until he couldn’t feel anything anymore. He couldn’t do that to Piers. He _wouldn’t_ do that.

The woman was still talking. “Sorry, what?”

She stopped and turned to face Chris, “No worries, Mr. Redfield. I was saying: Mr. Nivans has made remarkable moves in recovery this past year. By all accounts he should be deceased,” her voice softened, “He wanted to live. He has something to live for.”

She turned back to continue walking forward, Chris went back to his thoughts _. Something to live for?_ He remembered the look on Piers’ face when he shoved Chris into the escape pod, the small smile he gave from behind the sealed door, and that burst of pure power that was undoubtedly Piers. Chris remembered how heavy his heart felt. He may have kept going, but Claire, Jill or any of his friends never knew just how deep his feelings truly ran for the younger man. Nor did Piers for that matter. Chris never found a good time to tell him. How could he? So he focused on his job – being Piers’ professional partner and captain.

Chris and the women reached a large double door with a key pad. She turned again to face him. “Now, Mr. Redfield, even though Mr. Nivans has made moves in recovery, he still has a long way to go. But when it became apparent he was _going to live_ , that’s when the decision to inform you was made.”

“I should have been _informed_ the second he was found.” Chris took in a deep breath, has angry as he was about how things were handled, there was no use now. He was minutes away from seeing the man he loved.

The woman broke away from his gaze, her voice small, “He dreams about you.”

“He – _what?_ ” Chris’ eyes widened.  Before he could get another word in, the doors opened with a loud buzz.

“Another nurse will be here shorty to take you to Mr. Nivans.” With that, the woman walked off.

Chris surveyed the room he now stood in. It looked like your average nurses’ station, but deprived of color. People in white lab coats walked about. Chris sat down on one of chairs, with his forearms resting on his thighs, anxiously tapping his leg. Chris didn’t know what to expect. He remembered Piers from that dreadful night; the right half of him… no longer him. If Chris had managed to get Piers into the pod with him, would Piers even be here? Would his actions, once again, cost another life? Not just a life – _the one_ life. He tried to stop thinking about it.

Lost in his own anxious thoughts, staring at the ground, when a woman spoke he shapely jerked his head up. It was a different woman than from before.

She smiled down at him, “I’m here to take you to Mr. Nivans now.”

Chris stood up and followed her through more security doors. Somehow there was even less color in these halls.

As they walked, she spoke up, “Mr. Nivans won’t be able to discharge for some time as we still have more… tests to run. But! He is up, talking and able to have visitors see him.” She finished her sentence off enthusiastically, clapping her hands together.

They reached a door that looked relativity normal and knocked. “Mr. Nivans?”

Chris' heart skipped.

A muffled “come in” replied back.

This was it. He took in a deep breath.

“This is where I leave you.” The woman said softly, opening the door. As soon as Chris stepped in, she quietly closed it.

Piers sat on an all-white bed, with his back facing Chris, staring at the wall. His right arm was gone from what Chris could see, which wasn’t surprising.

Piers made no movements from his spot, no sounds.

Chris gulped, “Piers?”

That got Piers’ attention, he stood up too fast he had to balance himself on the wall. He made his way around the bed and stopped dead in his tracks half way. His left hand reached out, but quickly recoiled back.

“C-captain?” His voice was so soft. Chris never knew hearing that word would have such an emotional reaction to him as it did. Unable to be this close to Piers and not touch him, Chris made two long steps and had Piers in his arms. Eyes closed, arm secured around Piers’ neck, all fears erased against Piers’ solid body. Piers nearly clawed his way up, attempting a tighter grip. His body shuddered as he sucked in a deep breath. They stayed together for a bit, basking in each other’s warmth.

“It’s good to have you back.” Chris whispered into Piers’ neck. “I’ve missed you.”

”I’ve missed you too.”

Chris took a step back, hands still on him. Piers’ right eye was covered by a thin white patch that wrapped around the crown of his skull. He wore pale blue sweatpants and a solid white t-shirt. Chris could only imagine what lies beneath that shirt. He looked for too long. Piers tore himself from Chris’ touch and backed stepped to the side of the bed, turning away.

“Piers…” Chris paced forward, but stopped. The last thing he wanted was to overwhelm Piers. Piers had his head turned to the right, no doubt eyeing his lack of an arm.

After a few minutes, he spoke, “Why are you here?”

Of all the things, that was the last thing Chris excepted to hear. Why _wouldn’t_ he be here? If he had just known, he would have been here _every fucking day_.

“Piers…” he began again, “For you, I’m here for you.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

Chris moved forward. In the year Piers’ body had notably become smaller, thinner and less muscled. Chris’ body enclosed around Piers’ frame. Hot breathe met his neck, as an arm came around his abdomen, holding the younger man close.

“I can.”

Piers relaxed against his chest, bringing his hand up to meet Chris’.

Short lived moment of bliss. That’s when Piers spun around and shoved Chris back with all his might, he stumbled forward as he did.

Chris couldn’t get a word in before Piers blew up again, “Why?!” His good eye blurred with tears. “Look at me! I’m still a monster! I’m no better than I was a year ago!” Piers lifted up his shirt to reveal an uneven mess of dense scar tissue, which leaned heavily on his right side. He pulled the hem of his sweatpants down to show that the scars didn’t stop there, but also traveled down his legs. He jerked his arm to his face, pointing to the patch, and then made a wild gesture to his missing limb.

“There’s nothing good about me.” Piers moved back against the bed, sitting down on its edge. He lowered his head into his hand.

Chris almost laughed. As if he could be turned off by something so trivial as Piers’ appearance. He’d seen the worst of the worst and no matter what – Piers will always be the best.

“I don’t believe that. Not for a second,” his voice stern and clear. “You saved me. In more ways than one.” I flicker of hurt crossed him; did Piers regret saving him? He attempted to banish that thought. Unfortunately…

“Do you regret it?” He stepped closer. “Do you regret saving me?” _Do you regret ever meeting me?_

Piers’ lifted his head as his eye widened and his jaw went slack. He stood up, meeting Chris half way, invading his space. “No! Never! I wouldn’t- I don’t!”

Piers gripped Chris’ open jacket, looking up at him with the look of a kicked puppy. He hung his head and said, “I have… issues. And regrets,” his grip tightening on Chris. “But you… you were – _are_ not one of them. It’s a process. ”

Hearing those words, Chris took Piers into his arms. He took notice of how Piers again clawed his way up; clinging to him like his life depended on it. “I’m sorry,” he murmured against Chris’ neck.

Chris gently pulled himself back. As he did, Piers lost his grip on him and protested silently.

“You’re the last person who should be apologizing.” Feeling a little bold and knowing Piers wanted to be close to him, he cupped Piers’ face – left hand on medical tape, right hand on skin – bringing him closer. Piers tilted up, his full lips a slight agape. Chris could feel his heartbeat start to pick up at his new thought. Just how badly did Piers want to touch or even be touched?

Breathing in, Chris carefully moved a hand down to Piers’ neck – pause – move down to his shoulder – pause – and then continue farther to his hand, curling his fingers around Piers’. Piers responded by gently applying a tighter grip, and nudging his cheek into Chris’ other hand.

As good as a response Chris was going to get. Keeping his hand on Piers, he slid it up and around to land on Piers’ lower abdomen, resting over his t-shirt. As Chris inched himself lower to Piers’ hips, he stopped. Piers’ eye was closed.

“Piers?”

“Hmm?”

“Piers,” Chris repeated. “No means no. If I do something you don’t want or you don’t like, say the word and I’ll stop.”

Now his eye was open, looking up at Chris with a soft smile. Piers leaned into him. “Okay.”

Feeling better about having done that, and more evidence of Piers wanting to be close, Chris removed his jacket, throwing it on an idle chair, and then kicking off his boots. He went back to Piers’ hips, using both hands, he gently lifted up the bottom of the shirt, caressing his thumbs over the defined bones. If Piers could have fallen in deeper into Chris’ chest, he would have. The cool of Chris’ thumbs sent a small pang of chills up Piers’ spine. Chris slowly smoothed his hands higher, just above the hips, feeling across the mess of scares. Piers froze under Chris’ touch. Chris began to remove his hands form their place when Piers stopped him.

“It’s okay,” Piers said, placing his hand over Chris’. “I trust you. It’s… been awhile, is all.”

Chris nodded slowly, going back to feeling his way across, he felt Piers relax against him again. As Chris smoothed his hands over, Piers gently rocked his hips to Chris’ movements. Each time they met, their bulges brushed.

The more they met, the more Piers pressed into him. Piers had his forehead against Chris’ chest letting out the smallest audible gasps. Chris moved a hand to Piers’ core and turned it upside down – palm up and fingers pointed down – he slowly slide it down the hem of Piers’ pants and underwear, then paused. When Piers didn’t protest, that’s when Chris went further down. He carefully pride his fingers under the base of Piers’ cock. The moment fingertips met sensitive flesh, Piers’ knees buckled under him, his hand flew up to clutch Chris’ shoulder. His eye shot open, his mouth agape, but no sound escaped.

Chris walked Piers backward toward the bed, gently pushing him down on the edge, never moving his hand. Their eyes met, and Piers looked lost in a bliss he had long since forgotten existed. Chris smiled down at him. That’s when he moved. He played with Piers’ balls – toyed with them even. Piers sucked in a deep breath as he pride his legs apart. After a few sweet caresses, Chris lifted his hand; gripping Piers’ cock in it’s entirely, and pulling it up out of its confined space. Using his other hand, Chris pulled down the sweatpants and underwear. Piers eagerly shook them off from his ankles, discarding them to some corner of the room.

“C-c-a- ptain,” Piers barley managed to get out through his small gasps. Chris pumped his hand up and down slowly, feelings Piers’ stiffness becoming more prominent.

“Yes, Piers?” Chris said as slow as his pumps.

Piers had fallen back against the bed. Through his lidded eye, he saw Chris lean down to him. Chris blocked out the ceiling light, casting a shadow over him. Chris gave a few more agonizing slow pumps, now twisting his wrist in it.

“I- I- want,” Piers breathed out, as his body warmed to its growing tension. Not entirety sure how to ask for it, Piers lilted his head up, and as innocently as he could, puffed his lips out.

“Oh, Piers…” Chris tightened his grip on Piers’ cock and leaned in for a tender kiss. Piers opened himself up right away, allowing Chris to swallow his sounds. He brought his hand up to comb his fingers through Chris’ hair, then to Chris’ cheek. Chris nipped and licked at Piers’ bottom lip.

Chris repositioned his hand over Piers’ now hard member to smooth his thumb over the slit, spreading pre-cum over the head. As he did, he turned his head to kiss the inside of Piers’ palm.

“Fuck…” Chris grunted as he lowered his head and worked at Piers’ release. Piers propped himself up on his elbow. Chris had moved up enough that there was no shadow in his way. Piers eyed Chris’ hand, the hand moving so deliciously on his cock; up and down, the gentle tugging of his balls.

Chris let out another grunt. He shifted his hips back and forth. Piers peered directly ahead of him, noticing the way Chris’ zipper tightly bended. Piers smiled to himself. Piers moved his head back up to capture Chris’ lips again, lazily running his tongue over Chris’. Chris happily complied by deepening the kiss. Piers backed away for breath, only to lean himself back into Chris. Using his upper body strength, he pushed against Chris to a standing position. Chris gave him a questioning look, but said nothing.

Piers placed his hand over Chris’, where he was stroking Piers’ leaking cock. Meeting his eyes, he lightly squeezed Chris’ hand before moving to palm Chris’ ever aching cock through his jeans. How that zipper wasn’t breaking was a mystery.

Piers locked his ankles around Chris’ waist. Losing his balance on Piers, Chris fell forward, catching himself on his forearms, enclosing Piers under him. Piers rolled his hips up, allowing his cock to brush against the rough fabric of Chris’s jeans. Chris grunted above him; Piers absolutely loving those sounds in this new found context.

Piers reached for Chris’ belt buckle, pulling at it, hoping to convey that he wanted it off. Chris pulled himself back, unlocking Piers’ legs from him, and hurriedly releasing himself from his pants. Piers gazed at the tight outline of Chris’ cock through his boxers. How badly he wanted to kiss it, wrap his mouth around it, and much more have it buried deep within him. Piers scooted further onto the bed, opening himself up as best he could, only to be met by Chris shaking his head.

“No, we’re not doing that.”

“Oh…”

“Not today anyway, I want you in my bed for that.”

 _Oh._ Piers’ cheeks heated at that thought.

Chris walked into Piers, swinging his legs over on the bed, pulling them out. On his back, Piers watched as Chris pulled his boxers down with a relived sigh when his cock sprang free. Gripping his cock, Chris gave himself a few pumps, as Piers pleasantly watched on, gripping his own. Chris made the short steps to the bed, climbing up. His knees parted on either side of Piers. He leaned down to give Piers a few sweet slow kisses.

Of Chris’ new position, Piers moved his hand to squeeze Chris’ ass; solid and perfect under his palm. Chris smiled into his kisses.

Kissing away from Piers’ lips, Chris moved toward his jaw, then to his neck; sucking at the tender skin, hard enough that marks would be left. Piers arched his head back, allowing Chris better access. Chris sunk his teeth in, causing a sharp inhale. Piers’ body rocked up, causing their neglected dicks to brush, making them both gasp at the sudden jolt of pleasure. Piers circled his arm around Chris’ midframe.

Chris grabbed Piers’ cock and then his own, snuggly holding them in one hand. With one more kiss to Piers’ neck, Chris stroked his hand up and down, slowly building back up the heat. Piers rolled his hips into his palm, sliding his cock along Chris’ with a breathless pant from both men. Chris pushed himself into his hand, to match with Piers’ rolling. With each push and roll, their cores burned. Chris twisted his wrist into each movement. Piers arched his back, as Chris lowered himself deeper into Piers’ neck. With his arm still around Chris, Piers tightened his hold; anything to get closer to the man above him.

Chris slide his thumb over his slit, then pushing himself down to feel Piers’; mixing their cum over each other.

“Chris!” Piers panted under him, curling his toes. “I’m – I’m – !” Chris positioned their dicks to Piers’ abdomen, lovingly coaching him along.

“That’s it, it’s okay, let it go.” Each word a sweet stroke of his hand.

Piers shot his load on to his t-shirt, fully collapsing against bed, breathing hard. Chris milked every last drop from him, going back to kissing along his neck and shoulder.

Coming out of his orgasmic bliss, Piers felt Chris began to shake above him, uneven hard breathes through his nose. Their eyes met when Chris spoke.

“Piers, I… I have to… I have to cum.” His grip tightening on his cock, pumping long and hard. “Tell me to turn, and I will. Or I’m gonna–!”

Piers slowly lifted his hand to Chris' cock, fingering it – from the base of his heavy balls, over Chris’ fingers, to the tip – up to point at his chin. With a single nod, his neck and chin were covered in thick, warm cum.

“Wow,” Chris hummed, kissing Piers’ forehead. “You are perfect.”

Piers melted to his words. He watched as Chris surveyed the room, spotting a closed door in the corner. Chris lifted a leg over Piers before planting both feet onto the floor. Casually putting his clothes and shoes back on, he made for the door before disappearing through it.

As Piers waited for Chris, he brought his fingers to his chin, making lazily movements, before sucking on two of them. The tangy taste on his tongue made his body shudder just knowing who it belonged to.

Chris reappeared through the door, holding two wet washcloths. Sitting beside Piers and placing one cloth on the side table – he stopped.

“I do swallow.” Piers shrugged.

“Yeah, you definitely are perfect.”

Chris whipped all of Piers’ face clean, carefully moving around the bandages, then moving down toward his neck. Dark bruises had begun to form. He gently cleaned over them.

“Sorry about your neck… I should have known better.”

“I’m not.” Piers tenderly ran his fingers over the bruises.

“What about the nurses?”

“Truthfully, I don’t care what they’ll or anyone would think of them. Well, except only you.”

Chris’ only response was to lean down for another kiss. Chris grabbed the other cloth and began dabbing at the white stains on Piers’ t-shirt.

“We should have taken off your shirt… maybe next time.”

Piers perked up that the words “next time”. As Chris focused on the shirt, Piers focused on the way Chris’ eyebrows creased together when he worked at something, remembering back to their days has partners.

“There!” Chris beamed backing away. “From here to the next time it’s in the washer – no one should know.”

Piers couldn’t help but laugh.

Chris stood up to throw the cloths into a hamper back in the bathroom, reemerging in the doorway.

Piers rolled his shoulders down, arched his back, stretched his legs out, and his arm wide; giving Chris an eyeful of his still uncovered body.

“Like what you see?” Piers winked at him.

“Yes, very much.” Chris walked over, grabbing Piers’ by his ankles and turning him to the side of the bed. Running his hands over the Piers’ scared thighs, scares that did travel down his legs. Scares that Piers got for him. For a second a sad ache washed over him, only for Chris to be met by Piers’ warm hopeful smile. Piers held his hand on his thigh, their touch brought on a comfortable silence.

Leaning down, Chris picked Piers’ discarded clothes off the floor.

“You should probably put these back on; I bet a nurse will check up on you soon.”

Piers half-heartily complied, then smoothing down his damp t-shirt.

Chris ruffled around in his jacket pocket, pulling out a deck of cards, before tossing the box onto the bed. Piers opened it allowing the cards to fall out.

“Wanna play War?”

Of all things. Piers playfully shook his head in disbelieve. “Sounds good.”

Piers reached for a flat tray under the bed to use as a makeshift table. Laying out the cards, they played for 20 minutes before a gentle knock of the room’s door took them out.

“Mr. Redfield, Mr. Nivans?”

“Come in.” Piers said, setting his pile of cards down. Another different woman entered the room calmly.

“Mr. Redfield, unfortunately Mr. Nivans needs to get back to his room.”

Chris looked to Piers, who merely shrugged, gathering up the cards; shuffling them in their box. “This is just a visiting room.” He handed Chris the box.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Chris reached for Piers’ hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

Piers nodded and smiled. “I’d like that.” As Chris stepped away from the bed, their palms and finger tips brushing over each other – just one more touch for the night.

Another nurse turned into the room, pushing a cart with her. She went right to touching the bandages on Piers’ face, deeming them to be changed; she motioned for Chris to leave the room.

Chris looked to Piers, whom mouthed: _It’s okay._

The other nurse turned to Chris, extending her arm down the dull hallway. “Right this way, please.”

From behind him, Chris heard Piers say, “Chris, bring the cards again.” There was a hint in his tone that just didn’t mean they’d be playing cards tomorrow. Piers beamed at him, enough to show teeth.

The door shut behind him as he walked with the nurse. After a few minutes of silence, the woman spoke. “In the time Mr. Nivans has been here, I don’t recall ever seeing him smile like that.” They reached the door to the like-nurses’ station. “Everyone needs someone like that. It’s nice to know you’re that someone to him.”

With that, Chris headed for the building's exit, wishing it to be tomorrow, tapping the box of cards in his pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> It has come to my attention that I will never be able to write a canon story for Piers. Piers Nivans lives and that’s final.


End file.
